


Human Traditions

by Culumacilinte



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio), Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culumacilinte/pseuds/Culumacilinte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romana and Leela get roped into a Christmas celebration with the Eighth Doctor and Charley. Leela makes good use of the mistletoe. Originally published December 2012</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneTurenne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneTurenne/gifts).



‘Mistle-toe?’  
  
Sitting on the floor with two piles in front of her, one of lengths of ribbon, and one of tangled greenery, Leela holds a sprig of the stuff up to her face, examining it with clinical curiosity. ‘What is the purpose of this mistle-toe? It has no scent; it is not pretty to look at, like the holly Charley hung earlier.’  
  
‘It’s poisonous, among other things,’ Romana interjects wryly, as Leela looks on the verge of plucking one of the waxy white berries to see if its purpose is in its flavour, and Leela nods consideringly, taking this in stride.  
  
‘Perhaps it is a symbol on Earth? Like the pine. We had such trees on my planet, whose green never faded, even in the winter months. There was a forest of them many days travel from my village, whose trees we were forbidden to cut; they were an omen of strength and life undying.’  
  
Romana, whom the Doctor has roped into stringing popcorn, twitches a smile at the back of Leela’s head. ‘Something like that,’ she allows with restrained humour. ‘ _Viscum album_ , I think, is the—’  
  
She gets no further in her definition than that, though, before the Doctor comes dancing past as if he’s on springs, in shirtsleeves and festively striped socks.

‘ _Kissing_ , Leela! That’s the point! You hang sprigs of mistletoe up, and if you get caught under one, you get a kiss. Like so!’  
  
In a series of rapid movements, he squats down across from Leela and makes a haphazard grab for a cutting of mistletoe, twiddling it above his head and ducking in whip-quick to smack an enthusiastic kiss right on Leela’s lips.  
  
‘Humans!’ he exclaims, like an afterthought. ‘You lot have the oddest traditions; I do love them.’  
  
The Doctor has been in an exclamatory mood since they arrived here. Leela laughs, shaking her head and eyeing him with mock wariness.  
  
‘I am not sure I like this tradition, Doctor. If you were anyone else I might have broken your arm for that.’  
  
Her tone is warm, though, and the Doctor grins at her. ‘Well then, O Presidential Bodyguard Leela, you can protect all those fainting English maidens who have less formidable arm-breaking skills than you.’  
  
‘Oi, who are you calling a fainting maiden?’ Charley’s voice comes from the doorway, soon followed by the rest of her, her cheeks pink and blonde bob tangled with a few surely accidental twigs of Christmas tree. The Doctor’s smile gives way to an expression of feigned sobriety, as if discussing matters of the gravest import.  
  
‘Certainly not you, Charley.’  
  
‘Too right. I’d’ve fainted already, doing all this work by myself. What’re you doing, loitering around while poor Romana and Leela actually get things done? Come on; the bannister needs a garland; you can help.’  
  
It isn’t until after the two of them bustle out to continue their manic decorating that Romana and Leela both give in to the impulse to laugh, and Leela continues tying off little bunches of mistletoe, laying them aside one by one.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Leela knows that Romana has a closet full of beautiful clothes back on Gallifrey which she almost never wears. Instead, like all Time Lords, she burdens herself with absurd collars and robes made of yard upon yard of fabric, all sleeves and voluminous folds, pomp and importance with no room for glamour, nor any consideration for the body beneath. Leela does not prize glamour as a reason to wear clothing, but she knows that somewhere, quietly, Romana does, and more important, she can appreciate a lovely thing when she sees it.  
  
Romana _is_ lovely in her silk dress, shimmering somewhere dark between blood and claret and mahogany, cut to cling just a little at the hips, showing off her ankles and shoulders. Her hair is swept up, something which Leela has learned, in her time on Gallifrey, the Time Lords find shocking and scandalous. No-one here will know, save Romana herself, and Leela and the Doctor, but somehow it adds. Leela is no Time Lord, of course, but it’s a warming thought, that Romana should wish to look shocking and scandalous for her benefit. More than lovely, though, Romana looks _relaxed_ , which is a rare thing indeed.  
  
Leela herself is in green, with tiny coppery beads swelling up like a wave from the hem of her frock. She does not much care for the shoes, nor the undergarments, but she too feels lovely, and relaxed, and she smiles hugely at the Doctor when he spots them over the dance floor.  
  
‘I am glad we have come,’ she confesses to Romana, and is deeply pleased when Romana answers with a smile.  
  
‘I believe a dance is traditional?’  
  
Her half-bow and extended hand is a gesture that might look more at home coming from Braxiatel than Romana, and Leela informs her of this. Romana gasps, pressing a hand to her solar plexus, and Leela bites her lip not to laugh. ‘Leela! Rassilon, I hope not. I’ll have to go steal the Doctor, then, and hope that he doesn’t think to compare me to his brother.’  
  
Leela watches as Romana and the Doctor take the next few dances; the Doctor is still all but bouncing, and his enthusiasm pinkens Romana’s face, and loosens her hair somewhat, so that a few strands straggle about her temples. As the band brings the latest energetic number to a close, the Doctor is beaming, and Romana is attempting to hide her own pleasure with a faintly chiding look that she should need to stop to catch her breath. Leela chooses the moment to intercede.  
  
‘Careful, Doctor,’ she murmurs, sliding in behind him. ‘Or I will have to break your arm in truth this time.’  
  
‘Mm?’ Both he and Romana turn to face her, both looking more confused than alarmed, for it is a tease, and no threat made in earnest. ‘Oh, please don’t,’ says the Doctor lightly. ‘At least not until the dancing’s done with.’  
  
Leela smirks, and nods upwards at the spray of mistletoe on the wall above their heads. ‘I think this will be my kiss.’  
  
The Doctor bows out gallantly, and Leela delivers Romana a soft, biting kiss before she has a chance to say much of anything about it, pressing close enough that the beading on her dress catches against the weave of Romana’s.  
  
‘Look around.’ She breaks from the kiss to speak against Romana’s cheekbone. ‘I put up more than one mistletoe in this room.’  
  
There are, in fact, numerous sprigs spaced evenly around the dance floor, and Romana chuckles. ‘And this from the woman who didn’t even know what it was for this morning. You are wicked, Leela.’  
  
Leela smiles, and directs the course of their next few dances with particular precision.


End file.
